


let your heart be light

by tevinterimperium



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas, M/M, harrison and jay are sad gay exes who don't deserve this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5523731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tevinterimperium/pseuds/tevinterimperium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas day and Jesse is still stuck in the grasp of Zoom indefinitely and Team Flash is out of S.T.A.R. Labs for once and Harrison Wells gets a quiet moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let your heart be light

**Author's Note:**

> post-ep
> 
> harrison wells deserves better

On Christmas morning, no one comes in to S.T.A.R. Labs. Barry, who has been acting as the unofficial ringleader, must’ve called everyone off; apparently super heroes _do_ take breaks for the holidays. Or, even if there are people to save and magnificent villains to stop, the major ones have been temporarily taken care of and everyone seems to be having a quiet day. It starts snowing, but naturally this time. There are luckily no exploding presents that are opened, and for once, everything in Central City settles.

Harrison isn’t an idiot, and he knows what Zoom can do. Not that he knows who Zoom is, or why he’s chosen Harrison Wells, or why he wants what he wants _necessarily,_ but he knows how to make decisions. It’s Christmas morning and Harry silently thanks the higher powers that he doesn’t have to see Barry’s face today, because he probably couldn’t handle it. S.T.A.R. Labs is at a temporary standstill and it’s the most relaxed Harrison’s been since he’s been thrown into Earth-1. 

He’s staying at the same laboratory he works at, because the currency on Earth-1 is different than that of Earth-2 (theirs feature a bizarre number of presidents and seems to be still be made out of paper) and walking around with the face of Harrison Wells doesn’t seem like a too good idea, since last time it got him shot in the lung. Which was, admittedly, a bit of a special situation. However, S.T.A.R. Labs has at least twenty unused rooms and while there does seem to be a Team Flash credit card, they clearly do not trust him enough just yet. Which is fair, considering that the Harrison Wells of Earth-1 (or, the Eobard Thawne of Earth-1 taking on the form and fashion sense of the Harrison Wells of Earth-1) seemed to have emotionally scarred the brave and fearless Flash with his red suit and charming grin, betrayed the entirety of their team by actually being their archenemy the entire time, and killed their main scientist in an erased timeline which aforementioned scientist still remembers, somehow. That doesn’t mean that disallowing Harry from having the Team Flash credit card is particularly _welcoming,_ though. 

It’s a pleasant change to wake up and knowing that Jesse isn’t dead, but waking up on a stiff couch tucked into the cold corners of a lab that isn’t his in a world that isn’t his own _isn’t_ necessarily an enjoyable experience. Of course, Harrison has been doing this for months now — he knows how the world is shifted slightly, how everything is off. The War of the Americas is under a different name and they’re years behind in technological advancements in almost every sense and the Jitters coffee shop is three blocks from where it’s supposed to be. Everything’s new and different and Harrison doesn’t know what to expect, even if it’s been months. Half of him wants to go back desperately and the other half knows that Earth-2 isn’t really home, either, now.

It’s Christmas morning, though. He’s spent the past twenty years of his life being awakened by Jesse, but this time he just wakes up before the sun rises on his own, and he’s sure it’s instinct by now. Everything is peaceful, for once, and though the empty corridors ring with their quiet, he takes it as a blessing.

He does what he always does when he feels numb; he works.

It’s not like he hasn’t dealt with loss before, because he’s lost his wife and he’s lost his mother and he’s lost everyone and everything that he ever knew back on Earth-2, because now he’s stuck here. Not _stuck_ , per se, but he’s not able to leave until he gets Jesse back, until Barry is strong enough, until he can assist in the downfall of this Earth’s Flash. Apparently slaughtering the image of Earth-2’s Flash wasn’t enough.

There’s always Velocity-6. Harry tinkers with the chemical balances and boils the solution and then shakes it up again and decants it once more, he adds nitrate and ammonium and sulfate just to see what happens. He doesn’t know the Speed Force, not as well as Jay, but he knows science and he knows formulas. He’s not the man who is the cause for the metahumans that have flooded Central City for no reason. If he could give Jay Garrick the ability to run at the speed of sound, he’s sure that he can recreate in liquid form.

Harrison works because it’s easier than facing his living situation, certainly. Jay is living off of the money that Eobard Thawne left Team Flash before he supposedly died in a freak accident that no one cares to tell either Jay or Harry about, because each time they bring it up, Barry and Caitlin shift in their seats and Cisco pretends to busy himself with a computer program. Jay, most likely because of his charm and his ability to flirt with pretty young women (a habit which Harry always scowled at) has been granted with multiple pairs of clothing (primarily consisting of a leather jacket), a place to stay when he’s not at S.T.A.R. Labs, and varied types of food on a day-to-day basis. Harrison Wells is stuck in this three pairs of all-black clothing which he periodically washes, some foreign office of an ex-employee working under Eobard Thawne, and either avoiding eating meals altogether or having to hide his face at fast food windows so he doesn’t get arrested and shot. Which could probably be worse.

Harry knows why Jay hates Velocity-6, and it’s partially because Jay hates _him_. Harrison Wells, who tinkers with the very fabric of the universe, who gave the world metahumans and refused to take the blame, who was accused of crimes unable to be judged because of their magnitude and their otherworldliness and smiled right back at his accuser, who knows Jay Garrick better than he should and knows how to make Jay Garrick weak. Harrison Wells can see why Jay jumps at the opportunity to punch him in the face because, honestly, who wouldn’t.

Jay’s opinion doesn’t stop him from working on Velocity-6, though. Jay’s opinion has never been enough to stop him from working on what he believes in, which is why Jay keeps on glaring at him from across the room and crossing his arms whenever Harrison tries to talk to him. They’ve always butted heads about this and they always will, and it’s because they’re both stubborn and confident and unbudging. For the life of him, Harrison doesn’t know how they worked for so long. It must have been a miracle.

The day fades into night, as it always does in empty silence. Harrison waltzes around the Cortex, because for once no one’s there, and he hates and loves Team Flash all at once. They’re beautiful and foolish and stuck in the past and he adores them for all their faults, despite himself, despite the fact that he’s going to have to destroy them from the inside out just so his daughter can be safe. Zoom calls them his “friends” and he hates how right that is, hates how when he threatens them too, he feels his head turn even more and his stomach drop. On Earth-1 he’s done his best to avoid the closeness that Jay gets himself entangled with, but Harry knows it’s too late now.

There are footsteps echoing throughout the thoroughly cement hallway right outside, which Harrison notices a few moments too late, because when he finally has time to look up from his filtered concoction in a 50 mL graduated cylinder, Jay is already standing there, looking disappointed in him.

It must’ve turned dark at some point, but Harry doesn’t notice it until he looks up at Jay. He’s wearing his leather jacket, tugged over one of his many button ups that he tends to roll up at the arms, and one of his varied pairs of jeans. He has a bottle of bourbon in his right hand and his left shoved into the jacket pocket. His hair is windswept and dramatic and his eyebrows are furrowed seriously. Harrison Wells would be momentarily taken aback at Jay looking significantly ruffled, though he refuses to show it.

“Harrison,” Jay says, not moving from his spot in the doorway. It’s his best attempt at being threatening.

“Jay.”

“I told you to stop working on the Velocity-6. Barry's going to get hurt.”

“You told me to not use it on _Barry._ I’m still going to _make_ it.”

Jay looks exhausted at that, and walks around the main desk of the Cortex to set down the alcohol he’s holding and examine the molecular blueprint of Wells’ solution depicted on the screen he has set up with a focused expression. Harrison pretends not to watch him reading his work with centered intrigue, which is mostly unsuccessful.

“You shouldn’t be tinkering with this sort of stuff,” Jay announces in a louder tone while still facing Harry’s plans, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“You’ve told me before.”

He turns around and says, “Well, you don’t listen,” before leisurely circling back the massive table so he’s on the same side as Harry. His face hardens into something more concerned, before he decides to say, “I really don’t think this is a good idea, Harrison,” in a quieter tone.

Now, it seems that Wells wants to look at anything _other_ than Jay. He hums in lieu of a reply and doesn't look up, pretends Jay isn't even in the room.

Jay appears resigned for a long minute, tired and older around the eyes, looking at Harrison Wells working distractedly on his speed drug that will always be unnatural and deeply wrong to Jay, no matter what. He then sighs with finality, and grabs the bourbon bottle he’s just placed down. “I didn’t come here to fight. Or talk about your questionable science.”

“It’s not questionable.”

“It’s questionable _morally,_ ” Jay retorts, twisting the bottle cap to the left, struggling minutely. For someone with arms like _that,_ it looks like he’s exerting too much force on such a tiny beverage. Harrison is momentarily awed by the amusing display and decides to drop the topic, since they’re not going to get anywhere if they keep on arguing. They’ve been doing that for the past month and the only place they got was a fistfight in front of a bunch of kids. 

Jay asks, “Do you have cups?” once he has the alcohol opened and gripped tightly by the neck in his hands. 

“What?”

“Do you have cups, for the bourbon,” he repeats, gesturing with the bottle. 

Harrison turns back to Velocity-6 (or, rather, Velocity-7, with it’s new and improved formula to solve any shakiness or discomfort, stabilized to keep the heart rate calmer) and shakes it up. “I’m not getting drunk with you.”

“Harrison,” Jay says weakly, but Wells won’t look at him. Jay walks over to him slowly, as if he’s a startled creature, and gently removes the serum from his and places it precisely into the stand. Harry has to look at him which is infuriating, because Jay’s face looks softened and there are creases around the eyes and for the love of God, Jay Garrick has never looked more gentle than in this moment. Their hands touched briefly and Harry spends all of two seconds convincing himself that he didn’t notice how warm Jay’s hands were. “It’s Christmas.”

“It’s Christmas _day,_ ” Harry says, because sometimes it’s easier to be an asshole than to be a genuinely kind human being. Harrison circles to the other side of the table like some twisted game of cat and mouse, turns off the television he has hooked up to his molecular structure plans and gets himself at least three yards away from Jay. “I thought you didn’t drink.”

Jay hums instead of responding, which is fair, and that’s the end of that.

There are cups in the medical bay, which makes Harrison momentarily question the set up of the labs he’s been inhabiting for the past — month? Two months? He tosses them nonchalantly and begins to clean up the rest of his work, tucking his chemical devices into the box he keeps in his makeshift bedroom, if he can call it that. Jay pours two fingers worth of whiskey into one cup and less than one into the second, and Harrison knows which one is his. 

He takes the more filled cup and swirls the liquid around counter-clockwise, watching as it hits the edges. “Why are you here, Jay?”

He says, simply, shrugging, “It’s the holidays.” 

“And?”

Jay sighs, like he’s physically drained by this conversation, and closes the bottle which he’s just opened. He puts his hand around his glass of whiskey but doesn’t bring it to his lips, and asks, “Why didn’t you come to Barry’s party?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you come to the party Barry had yesterday,” Jay repeats, gripping his cup tighter. He leans against the desk as casually as he can, holding the surface with his left hand. “He said he invited you.”

Harrison has the audacity to actually _laugh._ “What sort of question is that?”

“They don’t all hate you. I know you like to isolate yourself and act dramatic, but they _don’t_ hate you.”

Wells scoffs and looks like he’s about to exit the room, grabs the box with his equipment and sets down his bourbon with irritated finality. Jay, who looks strikingly drained only two yards away from him, shifts so he’s fully upright. There are bags beneath his eyes that Harry hadn’t noticed earlier, and the half-smile he puts on doesn’t even begin to reach his eyes.

“Why does it matter to you?” Harrison says, his voice lowered and scratchy, but there’s not enough bite in it to make Jay flinch. “I had other things to do.”

“What did you have to do, Harrison?” Jay replies, standing up fully and crossing his arms over his chest in a way that should be defensive, but Wells knows that he just does it naturally. Jay’s tone is accusatory but he always sounds accusatory when talking to Harry. “You have to start being frank with Team Flash.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to be frank with _you,_ Garrick,” Harrison replies, and he knows it’s unnecessary but he’s tired of Jay Garrick and his hero complex and his need to save everyone from themselves. Jay _can’t_ save Team Flash, or the people of Central City, or Harrison Wells, for that matter, because he’s not fast enough or strong enough or brave enough. And God, does Harrison knows that he tried, that he _has_ tried, but it wasn’t enough to stop Zoom and now Jesse’s taken and Jay Garrick was supposed to be the man who could save them all, but he didn’t. He _can’t._ Harrison goes to leave.

“ _Harry,_ ” Jay says, grabbing onto Harrison’s shoulder, fingers digging into the cotton for dear life. Harrison stops, despite himself, despite his anger and balled fist and clenched jaw, despite the fact that he blames Jay Garrick for everything that has happened with Zoom and everything that Zoom has caused. He tenses at the usage of his nickname; Jay was the one person who never used it, because _Harrison_ is who he is and _Harry_ is a forced nickname from a group of kids still scarred by their ex-mentor and long time enemy, the man who killed The Flash's mother and slowly tore apart Cisco’s heart with a shaking hand and clever grin (the same clever grin that Harrison Wells, _the_ Harrison Wells, gives them when he’s gotten something right). Harrison bites the inside of his mouth.

Jay says, “What is it?” quietly, and then he swallows. His Adam’s apple bobs and he looks innocent and timid; his eyes are wide and although Jay always looks like he’s ready to vehemently defend his honor to some naysayer, he looks soft in the toned down artificial light of the Cortex. Harrison momentarily berates himself for the romantic description, because he hates Jay Garrick and his inability to stop Zoom and his beautiful gentle expression, and this is completely unnecessary. 

He sighs, subtly tugs his shoulder away from Jay’s grip and inhales through his teeth. “I'm not going to tell you, Jay.”

Harrison can’t see Jay, doesn’t want to turn around and examine his face, so his expression could range from infuriated and more than ready to punch Harry in the face again to pitying and sympathetic with his eyes turned downward at the edges. He doesn’t turn around, though. Jay says, in a tone that is more resigned than biting, “Of course you won't.”

There’s a moment where Harrison’s ears are ringing and he just wants Jay to leave, he just wants to focus on Velocity-7 and the safety of science and the unwavering qualities of chemical calculations, but he doesn’t stomp out and Jay doesn’t have to stop him. 

Jay says, “Stay for a moment,” while holding both of their whiskeys in his hand, and he’s not smiling, but he’s not frowning, either. He holds one out to Wells, who takes it, but scowls.

“Why?” he asks, in a tone that wavers between innocent and taunting, a line that he likes to walk too often.

“Harrison,” Jay warns, but it's not a threat; Harry is about to cross an unspoken barrier that he would prefer stay in tact. This has never stopped him before, though.

“I don’t need your pity.”

Harrison sees a look flash across Jay’s face that can only be summed up as _why the hell did I ever date this guy,_ though it momentarily dissipates and turns into an exhausted, compromising expression as he goes to lean back against the desk again. “At least have a drink with me.”

Harrison says, “You don’t drink."

“I drink for social occasions.” 

“You didn't used to drink," is how Harrison replies, and the _"when we were together"_ remains unspoken but they both know that it's there.

“Things change,” replies Jay as he takes a sip of the whiskey. He moves it around his mouth, lets it wash over his tongue, and he looks taken aback by the taste of it. Jay Garrick, The Flash of Earth-2 and coined superhero, winces at the taste of bourbon.

Harrison lets out a forced, dry chuckle at the action, but doesn’t say anything. Jay doesn’t look at him and he doesn't look at Jay and the silence feels heavy and neither one of them wants to break it. They’ve worked together for too long, know too much about each other, Harrison thought that he would never see Jay Garrick again but somehow he’s the only person that he can truly trust on this entire planet, in this entire universe. Harrison takes a sip, too, just for that.

“I'm sorry. About Jesse.” Jay says, though his tone is terse and he isn’t looking up from his feet. He probably wouldn’t be sorry if he knew that Harrison was about to trick all of Team Flash into increasing Barry’s speed to ultimately lead him into the hands of Zoom just so Harry could have his daughter back. Harrison lets out a breath of air.

“Did Ramón tell you?”

“Yes.”

There’s no response to that, because it is what it is. Jesse Wells is supposedly locked up by the very enemy who took away Jay’s powers, and who has been after Barry for the past few months, and who is willing to watch hundreds of people die just so he can become the fastest man alive. 

“Cheers?” Jay asks, like it’s a question rather than a statement. He raises his glass halfheartedly, hovering. Tentative, maybe.

“What for?”

“For the hell of it,” he replies, simply.

Harrison decides that he can forget everything that he's ever done with Jay Garrick in the past six months, in the past six years, everything that he's ever done and ever will do, and that he can drink to that. Sometimes, it's for the best.

**Author's Note:**

> this dialogue is so fake-deep its almost too much for me
> 
> harrison wells deserves better!!!!!!!!!


End file.
